


Letters to You

by Admin Cock (Admin_Cock)



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Letters, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Letters, potential smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 05:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16528343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Admin_Cock/pseuds/Admin%20Cock
Summary: Arthur was never one to write letters, until he met her. Taryn was always too busy to write personal notes, but for him she found the time.





	Letters to You

Arthur hadn’t had much of a reason to check the post, or to write to folks anymore. The only person who sent him letters was Mary, and those had stopped coming a long time ago. But after _she_ had run into his life the outlaw found himself excitedly riding down to check the post in Valentine at the end of every week and writing back eager responses whenever he found the time between adventures.

Her letters always stuck out like a sore thumb with the crisp white envelopes and emerald wax seal holding those lovely words inside. The envelope always rested in the breast pocket of his coat, making his heart pound and his chest fill with warm anticipation as he rode back to camp. When she first began sending him letters, Micah had made the unfortunate mistake of snatching one out of Arthur’s hands as he walked back to his tent in a daze.

“Whatcha got here, Arthur?! Did one of th’ barmaids have to write a letter to decline yer offer to screw ‘em?”

The man’s hoarse laughter combined with Dutch’s chortle behind them made an unpleasant rush of heat boil up to Arthur’s throat. No one at the camp had known the city woman for very long, but he already knew that the redhead was a woman worthy of the upmost respect. Micah was the lowest form of scum who didn’t even deserve to have his grimy hands anywhere near something she’d touched.

Without a second thought, Arthur drew back and socked the greasy rat square in the nose, savoring the pained groan he gave out and snatching up the latter as it flew from his hand.

“Keep yer filthy mitts off my mail, rat.”

The dirty blonde outlaw was grateful he’d saved the old metal safe box he’d come across, as it quickly became home to everything he had the pleasure of receiving from the beautiful woman.

He could tell when she was on her coffee break in the early afternoon. The warm smell of vanilla and fresh coffee grounds would hit his nose as he opened the envelope and there were always little circular stains on the edges of the paper from where she sat down her teacup.

He could tell when she was caught in the rain while trying to catch a taxi back to her apartment. Spots of her elegant lettering blurred with the droplets and the odd small of gasoline that he’d never get used to.

He could tell when she’d had a bad day at the office and had let all her tears out in the privacy of her apartment. Her words were less eloquent, often crossed out from her trying to find the right words, and little droplets curled the paper in places. Droplets that he knew were tears that no lady such as herself should ever have to shed.

His favorite letter was the one he’d received after her cousin, the photographer, had come to the city for a visit. It wasn’t a normal letter, per se, and instead he received a story of the events that had unfolded through a bundle of photographs tied together with twine. There was one of the lovely redhead sitting across from the photographer during a meal, a crooked smile on her lips. They’d apparently gone to the beach in flowing dresses and large sunhats as there were a handful of images of the shoreline and the woman knee deep in the salt water, her dress and hair flowing about in the breeze. All of them were lovely and made a grin come to his scarred features, but the final two in the stack left an impression on him.

The first seemed to be during an early morning, with the classy lady lounging in a chair by a large window, sunlight highlighting all her features and bringing attention to how perfectly tousled her natural hair was. Those long, creamy legs peeked out from under a silken robe, and Arthur tried to shove his impure thoughts away as he instead focused on the large cat in her lap and the blissfully tired expression on her face as she gazed out the window. Oh, what he wouldn’t have paid to know who or what was on her mind at that moment. Was she thinking about work? Or somehow, by pure luck, was she thinking about him?

The last photo truly took the outlaw’s breath away. Lounged across an expansive bed with a bedspread that looked fit for a kind, his uptown girl slept soundly with a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. A hundred thoughts ran past his mind as he observed the photo. How soft that bed must be, how warm those blankets would keep her, and how heavenly it would be to share such a bed with the lovely woman.

* * *

 

Taryn rarely had time to write personal letters with all the work her boss piled on her, but after meeting _him_ she found time to write the heartfelt letters. He never wrote back as often due to all his wild adventures, but she didn’t mind. Every letter he did manage to send her was cherished and read over several times.

She could tell when he was up in the snowy hills and fighting to stay warm. The paper always smelled of a warm fire, his swirly handwriting shakier than usual from how his hands trembled in the cold, and somehow the envelope always retained the chill from a fresh snowstorm.

She could tell when he was driving one of the wagons in the caravan and they’d run through a spring shower. The brim of his hat always caught the rainwater and made large drops in the center of the paper so he’d write around it, once in a while there was a spot of mud on the corner of the paper from where he had to stop and fix the wagon wheel, and there was always a little note in the margin to let her know the passengers on his wagon said hello.

She could tell when he was feeling lonely and missing Mary because his letters would get dreamy and sweet. His words were larger than usual and held a weight as if he were writing poetry, there were always little doodles of hearts and flowers in the free space and once she swore there was a crossed-out drawing that she was almost certain said A ♡ M.

Her favorite was a simple yet heartfelt letter that included a simple photo of the rugged cowboy. Miss Grimshaw must have made him clean up for the photo, with his face clean shaven and pomade in his usually tousled hair. It was a mystery where he’d gotten such a well-fitting suit, but it made him look so nice she couldn’t wonder for very long. His posture was more formal yet nervous, a hand rubbing the back of his neck and a seemingly flustered grin cracking across his face. It was a little strange to see the rugged man so dressed up, but the image rested firmly in the redhead’s mind and made romantic images haunt her days and nights. Had Mary ever seen him like that? Had he ever danced with Mary? How would it feel to be in those strong arms and lead in a gentle dance?

* * *

 

How long had she been at camp? Didn’t she have a job to get back to? How many times had his eyes landed on her form bathed in the warm firelight?

Taryn had come to the outlaw’s little camp no less than a week and a half ago, supposedly on another business trip to make a trade deal for her boss. Arthur had offered to ride her into town on numerous occasions, promising it was no trouble, but she’d only been interested in going for rides through the roaming countryside and admiring all the sights she could never get in the city. The skirt and blouse she’d worn on the train ride were quickly traded out for a less formal top and some trousers as soon as they reached camp.

She always seemed so happy around the outlaw. Her laughter and bright smile always made an appearance through the day, her tender affection filling every corner of the camp and making Arthur envious at times when she praised and spoiled the horses. She’d become a part of his day he greatly looked forward to and missed deeply when she returned to the city.

Something in his heart told him she’d leave within the next few days, and as he took another drink of whiskey and listened to her laugh at something Lenny had said, something inside him shouted for him to make a move before it was too late.  
  
“Hey, Miss Taryn, what d’ya say we go for a moonlight ride?”

The woman almost instantly turned to face Arthur as he stood, making him feel weak in the knees as he noticed how the firelight made her bright hair almost appear to be aflame on its own. She blinked once as his offer registered in her mind, before she smiled warmer than the fire at their feet and nodded eagerly at him.

“That sounds wonderful! Count me in.”

Ooh and aahs echoed through the camp residents as she stood, accepting the cowboy’s hand as it was offered to her. He hadn’t realized he’d done it, but with her small, soft hand within his large, calloused one he didn’t mind. The walk to his Appaloosa mare almost seemed too fast, but as Arthur released her hand and gently held her waist to hoist her up into the saddle, time slowed as if he were in a dream.

He didn’t even acknowledge himself slipping into the saddle behind the woman or leading the mare into a gentle pace towards the river, but the sound of Taryn’s gentle sigh as she leaned back into his chest brought him back to the present.

Had she been drinking too, or was she just feeling tired?

“The sky is so pretty tonight.”

She was always commenting on the sky as if she’d never seen it before. To be fair, the view of the sky from the city surely wasn’t anywhere near as breathtaking as it was out in the countryside where there was no smog or pollution.

“Yeah… it sure is.”

With how contently she was relaxed against his broad chest Arthur wished they could have rode on through the rest of the night and into the dawn. He didn’t have to say what was on his mind, he was more than happy to have this small amount of contact with the stunning woman. He was so unbelievably lucky to just _know_ her, what had he done to deserve these precious moments.

The shimmering waterline of the river eventually broke the tree line and Taryn shifted up from her relaxed position to jump down from the mare and jog down onto the rocky shore. The outlaw watched on amusedly, swallowing thickly as he watched her kick off her shoes to dip her toes in the water. He was silently glad he kept that blanket among his saddlebags now, and as he dropped off the mare and allowed her to graze he rummaged around for the warm bundle of cloth.

Turning around, Arthur was met with a sight he did not expect. Standing there in the moonlight, the reflection of the moon and stars dancing on the water’s surface, the redhead now stood up to her thighs in the river, all her clothes discarded on the shore and her long hair freed from its loose bun. Oh, what he wouldn’t do to have his journal right now. She looked like an angel standing there in the most sinful of ways. She was to ethereal, too perfect to exist, much less for him to be permitted to view in such a manner.

Just as he’d managed to roll the large blanket out on the shore, Taryn’s heavenly voice called out to him as she looked back over her shoulder.

“Come on, Mister Morgan! I promise I don’t bite.”

_You’re the one who should be worried about being bitten, Miss Taryn._

The impure thought crossed his mind before he could stop it, giving a weak chuckle and shaking his head a bit as he approached the water’s edge. His hand was already loosening his belt as his boots were getting kicked aside as he playfully teased the city slicker.

“Miss Taryn, what would they think if they caught a woman such as yourself out here in such a state with a wanted outlaw?”

Her laugh made something deep and primal stir within him, as he didn’t waste another moment as he tossed aside the rest of his clothes and placed his hat on a nearby boulder. The water and a pleasant temperature and Arthur couldn’t manage to drag his eyes away from the ethereal figure before him as he strode deeper into the river to be by her side. He couldn’t help but question how much he’d had to drink at the campfire when she gave him what he could only decipher as a seductive glance, her bright blue eyes swimming with a lust he’d never seen from the woman before.

Unfortunately for the outlaw, he was so focused on the look in the woman’s eyes he didn’t notice her sly smirk before she jumped up, pressing all her weight to his shoulders and forcing the man underwater with a boisterous laugh. As he came up gasping and sputtering, Taryn could only laugh, splashing him more before he caught her contagious giggles a joined in.

“Alright, Missie, you’re gonna get it now!”

She couldn’t help but squeal in delight as the rugged man chased after her through the water, both of them splashing and laughing until he finally had her picked up in a bridal hold. When her squirming wasn’t enough to get her free, the redhead quickly took a deep breath before Arthur dropped into the water and dunked them both under the surface. His war laughter rumbled through his chest while the woman in his arms gasped and shoved the curtain of wet hair out of her face, playfully shoving his chest.

“Arthur Morgan, you cheeky devil!”

“You started it!”

“But I didn’t pick you up and dunk you under the water!”

Taryn reached down to splash more water up at Arthur’s face, the pair laughing wildly as the outlaw still held her in his arms and spun her around a few times before tossing her into the water with another squeal.

Stepping back into the shallows, the outlaw sat down in the water close to the shore, still chuckling warmly as the city girl rose from the water and pushed her hair out of her face. Now with her pale form soaking wet and bathed in moonlight, he almost regretted bringing her down to the river and bringing them both underwater. He watched in a trancelike state as she slowly walked towards him in the shallows, her hips swinging hypnotically and the gentle smile on her lips drawing the words from his own before he could stop them.

“My god, you’re prettier than a peach in July.”

The woman kneeled before him in the water, her perfect breasts drawing his attention for a moment before he swallowed hard and forced himself to look up at her face again as she spoke in a low, sultry tone.

“Is that you or the whiskey talking, Mister Morgan?”

“Oh, I promise you, sweetheart, it’s me talking. I haven’t been able to take my eye off you since I saved you from that train robbery. You’re so… so damn beautiful and I wish you could be mine.”

Arthur could only watch with morbid curiosity as Taryn moving in closer, a surprised noise escaping his lips as one of her hands rested on his thigh beneath the water and her face came in close to his. She was so close – _so close_ – he could smell the whiskey on her breath and feel the warmth fan over his features. He couldn’t stop himself, the hand that wasn’t supporting his weight lifted almost hesitantly and cupped the nape of her neck, his calloused thumb brushing over her face near the corner of her lips.

“Who said I’m not yours, Arthur?”

Both their voices were lowering to whispers as they moved even closer, a mere breath away from their lips finally connecting.

“Does that mean…?”

His question trailed off, unable to finish it, but she seemed to understand and responded with a simple whisper.

“ _Yes._ ”

There was no hesitation in their next movements. His gentle hold on her neck pulled to woman in closer, making her straddle his lap to have a proper position. As their lips met in a heated kiss, a blissful sigh escaped both of them through their nostrils, Arthur leaning back fully as he allowed his other hand to come up and caress Taryn’s perfect form. Her own hands traced over his hairy, scarred form, taking in every mark her nimble fingers came across and giving a shuddery moan when his lips pulled away from hers and found her lovely neck.

_Now he **really** didn’t want her to leave._


End file.
